Return of The Prodigal Father
by tessalynne
Summary: When Peter Coleson discovers that Cole has returned from the grave, he goes to confront his father and settle his feelings once and for all. Sequel to 'Once A Brother' Complete
1. Chapter 1

**CHARMED**

"**Return Of The Prodigal Father"**

**(Sequel to the story "Once A Brother")**

**By J. B. Tilton a.k.a. Centexmale and Teri Thibeault a.k.a. Tessalynne**

**Emails: **

**Disclaimer**: "Charmed" and all related characters and events are the property of the WB television network, except for those characters specifically created for this story. This is a work of fan fiction and no infringement of copyright is intended.

(**Authors note**: This story takes place between season 5 episodes "Daddy Dearest" and "Tu Mummy Tambien".)

When Peter Coleson discovers that Cole has returned from the grave, he goes to confront his father and settle his feelings once and for all.

ONE 

Peter Coleson looked at the introduction form of the potential client sitting in the outer office. It contained all the information he would need to determine what kind of trouble the man was in. And what, if anything, he could do to help him.

The case looked like it was pretty straightforward. The man's name was Jacque Dumas. Apparently he was a French immigrant who had been in the United States for several years. He had been arrested several days earlier for breaking and entering and attempted sexual assault.

Peter sighed. He had defended these types of clients before. And he was very good at his job. Most, he knew, were guilty. But he was a criminal attorney and everyone deserved a fair trial. He sometimes had to protect the rights of the guilty so that the innocent were also guaranteed a fair trial.

He paged his secretary and had her show the man into his office. As Dumas took a seat, Peter noted his appearance. About thirty years old, he was casually dressed with a couple of days beard growth on his face. He didn't seem terribly concerned by his current predicament. That was often an indication of guilt. But not always. After the secretary left the office, closing the door behind her, Peter sat back in his chair.

"So, Mr. Dumas, I see you had a little run in with the law."

'Yeah," said Dumas, glancing around the office. "I heard you were the best so I came to see you. I need you to get me out of this. I can't go to prison."

"Well, I'll do my best. But I operate strictly by the law. Now, anything you tell me is privileged. I can't tell anyone else no matter what. But that doesn't apply if you tell me about a crime you're planning to commit. If you tell me anything like that I'm compelled to tell the police."

"Gotcha'," said Dumas, winking at Peter.

"Now," said Peter pulling out a notepad, "tell me everything you can about what happened. Don't leave out anything. You never know what little bit of information might be important."

"Well, I did break into that witch's place. But I wasn't there to rape her. I ain't interested in that with her type."

"What type is that?" Peter asked.

"Witches," said Dumas. "All that protecting the innocent stuff. It gives me the creeps."

"Wait a minute. When you called her a witch you meant a real witch? You weren't just being derogatory?"

"Sure. I thought you knew that? I got your name from Kolash. You defended him a few months ago and he said you did a good job so I figured you could help me out."

"You're a demon." It wasn't a question. Just a simple statement of fact. "Look, Dumas, or whatever your name is…"

"Krembor," said Dumas proudly. "Kolash is my first cousin."

"Krembor. Look, I don't do that any more. I represent humans exclusively. If you need legal representation, and apparently you do, you'll need to find someone else. I can refer you to some very competent attorneys."

"Hey, I want you." Krembor's temper was obvious in his tone. "I heard you're part demon. So you understand us. And I heard you're very good."

"Right on both counts. But I don't represent demons anymore. You'll just have to find someone else."

"You don't understand." Krembor seemed to be getting agitated. "I didn't kill the witch. The demon that hired me ain't going to be happy. If you don't get me off so I can go after the witch again he'll vanquish me. And it won't be pretty."

"I can sympathize," said Peter, not really caring if this demon were in trouble with his superiors. "But I don't represent demons. I don't know how to make it any clearer to you. You'll just have to find someone else to represent you."

"And you ain't understanding me," said Krembor getting more agitated. "This was ordered by my boss so he could get in good with the Source. If I don't finish this job he's not going to look good for the Source. And until I get out of these charges I can't go after her again. If I do the cops will be waiting for me the second I try."

"The Source?" Peter questioned. "I was under the impression he had been vanquished."

"He's back. He got back a while back. He ain't done nothing to take control of the underworld yet but it's only a matter of time before he does. Once he steps up and takes control again my boss wants to impress him by telling him how many witches he's taken out."

"I feel for you," said Peter, thinking maybe he should call Phoebe later and warn her about this. "But this doesn't have anything to do with me. I don't exactly move in the underworld circles. And if the Source has returned I don't really care. Like you said, I'm only part demon. The Source would probably look at me as less than acceptable because of my human heritage."

"I don't know. He might not be like that. After all, he's half human himself."

Peter's blood ran cold. In the entire history of the underworld there had only been one Source that was not a full demon. That had been his father, Cole Turner. But that was impossible. Phoebe had vanquished him. Several demons had told him that. It was common knowledge in the underworld.

"You're talking about Cole Turner," said Peter getting a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. "That's not possible. He was vanquished. The Charmed Ones vanquished him months ago."

"Well, he's back. I heard it was 'cause he's half human. Something about having a soul or something. He came back from the Wasteland. And like I said it's only a matter of time before he takes control again. When that happens I don't want to be one of the demons he's told can't perform."

_This isn't possible._ Peter didn't know much about the Wasteland. What he had been able to garner from others was that no demon ever came back from the wasteland. It was essentially the afterlife for demons.

"How can you be so sure it's Turner that's returned?" Peter asked. "Maybe it's another demon."

"Naw, it's Turner. I've talked to a couple of demons that have actually seen him. It's him all right. And like I said, when he takes back the throne of the Source I want to be sure to get in on his good side. I can't do that if I'm vanquished."

"Well, you'll just have to find another way," said Peter, thinking. "I don't represent demons. Go find yourself another attorney."

"That's it?" asked Krembor, rising to his full height, his anger in full force. "Who do you think you are, you little worm? I have half a mind to just kill you now."

Peter looked at Krembor with disdain. Slowly he stood up without saying a word. The demon glared at him. Without warning Peter suddenly changed form; standing in front of Krembor was the spitting image of the late Belthazor.

"You might want to reconsider that, I'm not exactly defenseless."

"Belthazor," Krembor gasped, fear evident in his voice.

"Actually, he's my father. You want to make a good impression on him? I'm thinking that threatening his only son isn't the best way to do that."

Krembor was physically trembling. He hurriedly apologized and turned, nearly running from the room. Peter was confident he had seen the last of that demon. He returned to his human form and sat back down at the desk. He was thoughtful. If Cole had returned, it opened up possibilities Peter had thought were long gone.


	2. Chapter 2

TWO 

Peter shimmered into the underworld. He had been here only a few times before. For the most part he hadn't been welcomed. He was more human than demon. Even warlocks or White Lighters had been more welcome than he was.

Then Cole had become the Source of all Evil. When that had happened several demons began to court his attention. But he hadn't been fooled. He knew the only reason they were even talking to him was to try and curry favor with his father. He had made it quite clear to them that it would do them no good. He had no intention of "cashing in" on his biological relationship with his father.

When the Charmed Ones had vanquished Cole, most of the demons had stopped courting him. All but Malevant. For some reason this senior demon had taken Peter under his wing, so to speak. He never did understand why. But it had helped to prevent a couple of demons from coming after him to get revenge for what they perceived as wrongs done to them by Cole.

Then, just a few weeks ago, Peter had inadvertently encountered a demon. His name was Baldasor. Peter had learned then that Baldasor was Cole's brother. His uncle. And Baldasor had been able to fill Peter in on details of Cole's life he had never known before.

Now, because of Krembor, he had learned that Cole might have returned from the dead. Something Peter found incredible even for Cole. If it were true Peter had to find out. After his encounter with Baldasor Peter had begun wondering about Cole. Just what kind of a man, and demon, had Cole been?

Krembor didn't seem to know where Cole was. Peter thought if anyone would know where Cole is it would be Uncle Baldasor. While he might not be welcomed by the demonic population Baldasor was different. He was family. And even demons honored family.

Peter moved through the passages of the underworld. He had never been here before but he was pretty sure he knew where he was going. It was the only passage. There were no side passages to confuse him. And if his information was correct, it led to one place. The chamber for the Brotherhood of the Thorn. He came to a large entry and stopped. He took a deep breath and prepared to enter when suddenly two demons shimmered in before him.

"Who are you?" demanded one of the demons. "This chamber is only for the Brotherhood."

The demons were very similar. They were seven feet in height. One was black and the other was a dark green. They both had markings like the ones Belthazor, Peter's father, had worn. Markings similar to the ones Peter himself wore.

"My name is Peter Coleson. I came to see Baldasor. He's my uncle."

"Baldasor had only a single sibling," said the second demon. "Belthazor was vanquished. And I've never heard he had any offspring."

"It's not exactly common knowledge. He didn't even know about me until recently. Until just before he became the Source."

"As we said," the first demon spoke again, "this chamber is for the Brotherhood only. You are not allowed here."

"Wait," said a third demon that had suddenly appeared in the doorway to the chamber. "Are you truly the son of Belthazor?"

Peter suddenly changed to his demonic form. The three demons looked at him with no expression on their faces. They all recognized the form. It was virtually identical to the late Belthazor. Peter returned to his human form.

"You have the same markings," said the third demon. "How is that possible? You are not a brother."

"It's because my father was half human," said Peter. "My uncle said it must have been the elixir Belthazor was given after his initiation. It must have interacted with his human half creating a genetic anomaly that was passed on to me."

"You know of Belthazor's initiation?" questioned the third demon.

"Baldasor told me. He said I had the right to know since Cole, I mean Belthazor, was my father."

"I am Teltrick," said the third demon. "I am leader of the Brotherhood."

"I know," said Peter. "I heard about you taking over after Raynor was vanquished."

"Of course," said Teltrick. "Why do you seek Baldasor?"

"I heard my father has returned. I came to find out if it was true."

"Let him enter," Teltrick said to the other two demons. "He is the son of Belthazor. He is welcome with the Brotherhood."

The two demons stepped aside to allow Peter to enter. He followed Teltrick into the chamber. It was sparsely furnished. There were several doorways that presumably led to other chambers in the area. Teltrick and Peter took seats in the main chamber.

"Why do you seek your father? I understood you wished to vanquish him."

"Not any more. I made a promise to my mother. Whatever my personal feelings I plan to honor that promise."

"So much like your father."

"Baldasor said that. More than once. And from what he told me I guess there are some similarities."

"Yes," said Teltrick, smiling. "Belthazor was unique among demons. Not just because he had a soul. He was the only demon to ever resist one of Malevant's torture sessions. None before or since has ever come close. And Belthazor resisted to the end. He brought honor to the Brotherhood."

"That's what I understand. I heard he's back. Back from, what do you call it? The Wasteland? I figured if anyone knew about it Baldasor would."

"Baldasor is not here. He is off on an assignment. He did tell me of your meeting. Apparently you had some misconceptions regarding your father. Misconceptions, which Baldasor helped to correct."

"He didn't change my mind about him," said Peter uncomfortably. He was not at ease discussing his personal feelings with anyone, especially a demon. "But he did help to point out that perhaps there was more to my father than I had originally believed."

"Baldasor knew Belthazor better than any. Even those of the Brotherhood. If you wish to know about your father he is the best to seek out."

"There's someone else I can speak with. My father himself. If he's returned I can speak to him directly. But I don't know where he is. I thought Baldasor would know where he is."

"So, your motivation to find Belthazor is to speak with him?"

"Yes. I never got to know him while I was growing up. Baldasors story got me to thinking. I can never forgive him for what he did. But maybe I can understand it better. If I can understand who he is. Was. The only way for me to learn that is to talk with him."

"You believe he is in the underworld?"

"I'm not sure. He's a demon. And a member of the Brotherhood."

"He is also half human. I can tell you he is not in the underworld. I have heard rumors that he is working as a human attorney in a law firm somewhere in San Francisco. I do not know which one."

"If that's true I should be able to find him easily."

"Perhaps it would be best if you do not find him. I understand he is not the same as he was. His power is beyond belief. And it has been reported to us that he cannot be vanquished. Not even the Charmed Ones seem to have the power to vanquish him."

"As I told you," said Peter, standing up, "I have no interest in vanquishing him. I just want to talk with him."

"I only mention it because there are other changes as well. He is not the same Belthazor he once was."

"But you still consider him your brother."

"Once a brother…" Teltrick began the Brotherhood motto.

"Always a brother," Peter quoted the second half. "It won't change what I need to find out. Thanks for the information. You've been a big help to me."

"Coleson," said Teltrick standing up to face him. "If you wish to return you will be welcome. I shall tell all in the Brotherhood that you are to be given safe passage. You are the son of Belthazor. Perhaps one of the greatest that has ever served the Circle of the Black Thorn. While you are not a brother, there is a kinship between us. A kinship we will honor."

"Thank you, Teltrick. I know what that means. I appreciate it."

Teltrick simply bowed slightly to Peter. Without another word Peter shimmered out of the chamber returning to the mortal realm.


	3. Chapter 3

THREE 

Peter sat at the desk in his office. This office wasn't nearly as fancy as the one he had used when he had represented demons. It was located in one of the poorer sections of the city. Many of his clients couldn't even afford to pay him. Not that that was a problem. He had more than enough money to last him. And the satisfaction he got from helping those who couldn't afford decent legal representation was payment enough.

He was staring at an address written on a pad. Tracking down Cole had been easier than he had thought. He was using his real name. And working for one of the most prestigious law firms in San Francisco. Cole didn't seem to be attempting to hide who he was.

As Peter stared at the address he had a hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't fear that was tying him up in knots. It was more anticipation. He had never listened to Cole before. Even when his father had tried to explain what had happened, Peter wouldn't listen. He hadn't cared.

But now things were different. His feelings for Cole were in turmoil. On the one hand there was what he had done to Peter's mother. The reason Peter had vowed to one day kill him. On the other hand there were the feelings that he imagined most orphans felt. Curiosity about their parents. Wondering what they were really like.

Peter knew his belief that Cole was nothing more than a demon was not entirely accurate. The things Baldasor and Teltrick had told him showed that Cole Turner was much more complicated than he had always believed. And his association with the Charmed Ones only seemed to further confuse the issue. A demon that had sided with witches? That was practically unheard of.

But then much about Cole seemed to be a contradiction. A demon of more than a hundred years who had sided with witches and betrayed those he had served. A force of evil that had often killed without a thought had suddenly began risking his life to protect others from the very forces he had once served. And who had then turned once more and become the Source of all Evil. Literally.

Then there were the reports Peter had discovered of yet another about face. Reports that only served to further confound him. About how his father had apparently risked his life to pull a man from a burning building. He knew Cole would have been in no danger. Not with his demonic powers. But the act itself was out of character for a demon that served evil.

Peter was sure he knew the motivations behind Cole's actions. He and Phoebe had broken up long ago. She had even vanquished him when, according to rumors, he had tried to kill Piper and Paige. From all indications, Cole was trying to prove his love for Phoebe and restore what they had once had.

But that didn't make any sense either. Cole was a demon. By definition that made him incapable of feeling love or of even understanding the concept. Yet, he was also half human. And that human half, no matter how evil and despicable, could feel love and compassion. A fact that Peter had denied his entire life.

He wasn't sure how Cole would react to him. The last time they had spoken Peter had recanted his vow to kill Cole. But he had also told his father they would never even be friends, let alone father and son. How would Cole react now when Peter showed up wanting to know the father he had never known?

There was still a lot of hatred for Cole Turner. But as Baldasor had pointed out there was also some admiration. Some small desire to be like him. Maybe even something akin to hero worship. This too confused Peter. How could he hate this man so much and yet look up to him?

_Because in spite of anything he may have done, he's still my father._ Most sons idolized their fathers. Looked to them as one of the primary guiding forces in their lives. And often tried to emulate them. It was natural for a boy to react in this way.

Peter was no boy. He was a grown man and one-quarter demon. He knew the vile and despicable things his father had done during his life. The evil he had perpetrated on humanity in the name of the Source. And still there was some small part of him that looked up to Cole. A small part that, even knowing all the things he had done, couldn't forget that this was his father. The man that had given him life.

That conflict had only been emphasized when his mother had returned. Returned as a White Lighter. She had forgiven Cole for what he had done and forever taken away Peter's rationalization for his revenge of Cole. He had promised not to kill Cole.

Since that meeting Peter's confusion had grown. How could a woman marry a demon, raise a partially demonic son and still become a White Lighter? His mother had been a good woman, he knew that. But she had wasted her life waiting for a man who was never coming back. Peter had not been able to reconcile the evil that he thought he saw in his father with his mother becoming a White Lighter. It was a turmoil that wouldn't release him.

Peter knew that he would never resolve any of this until he confronted Cole. Listened to what he had to say. And was finally able to decide for himself just what kind of man his father had been. He had hated Cole for what he had done to his mother. But as a lawyer Peter had often seen people do things that were totally out of character for them.

And there was one other thing that had nagged at Peter since meeting Baldasor. It was something Baldasor had mentioned to him. Something that Peter had wondered about for as long as he could remember.

_He never let minor complications distract him from completing an assignment. However, if he had known of you that might have made a difference. My brother understood blood._

His mother had confirmed that Cole hadn't even known she was pregnant when he had left. She was planning to tell him when he suddenly just disappeared. She had no way to let him know that he had fathered a son.

Peter wondered if what Baldasor had said was true. Would it have made a difference if he had known about Peter? He had hated Cole for forcing him to grow up without a father. But now Peter could honestly say that he had been wrong in that respect. He couldn't hold his father responsible for something he hadn't even known about.

Would things have been different if Cole had known about him? Would he have stayed around, raised him like other fathers? Explained to him why he was different? Why he could do things no one else could? Helped him adjust to who, and what, he was?

Peter didn't have the answers to any of these questions. After so many years there might not be any answers to be had. But he had a chance to try and find out. Cole's miraculous return offered Peter a second chance at peace. All he had to do was find the courage to talk to his father.

There was nothing stopping Peter. He simply had to shimmer to Coles' office. The worst that could happen would be that Cole wouldn't speak to him. Even if that should be the case at least Peter would know he tried. If he didn't at least try he would wonder for the rest of his life if he could have learned anything from his father. With a sigh of resignation Peter shimmered out of his office.

Peter left Cole's office and walked outside the building. Cole hadn't been in his office for days. His secretary had no idea where he was. His work was beginning to suffer and it seemed he had little interest in it. This concerned Peter. It wasn't in keeping with the reputation Cole had garnered his entire life.

Peter suddenly stopped on the street. He was staring at a woman who was walking toward him. A woman who couldn't possibly be there. If Peter didn't know better he would have sworn it was his mother.

As the woman drew closer to him he realized it wasn't actually his mother. For one thing the woman was too young. She looked to be perhaps a few years younger than he was. Her hair was also different. It was nearly the same shade of yellow as his mothers' but the style was all wrong. As the woman walked up close to him he realized he was still staring at her.

"Are you okay?" the woman asked.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I apologize for staring. It's just that you remind me of someone I used to know."

"An old lover, perhaps?" asked the woman, smiling slightly at him.

"My mother actually. She passed away when I was very young. When I saw you on the street I guess I was kind of shocked. Again, I'm very sorry for staring at you."

"No harm done. A woman likes to think she's attractive to handsome men. It's actually a compliment. I'm quite flattered."

"Thank you for understanding," Peter said, looking at his watch. "Well, I should be going."

"No need for thanks," said the woman as Peter started walking away. "It's just that I hadn't realized I looked so much like her, that's all."

Peter stopped in amazement and looked at the woman. What an odd thing for a stranger to say. It was almost as if she had known whom he was talking about. But that was clearly impossible. His mother had died before this woman would even have been born.

"He never told me she resembled me so much," said the woman seeing the look of confusion on Peter's face. "But I can certainly see him in you. Mostly in the eyes. You're definitely his son."

"Who are you?" Peter questioned softly.

"I'm a… an acquaintance of your fathers'," said the woman. "My name is Angelique Dupree. I'm a Dark Lighter. And you would be Peter Coleson. Cole Turner's son."

Peter stared at Angelique in total confusion.


	4. Chapter 4

FOUR 

"You were the Dark Lighter Cole hired to help him during his initiation into the Brotherhood," said Peter as he and Angelique sat drinking coffee.

"Yes. But we knew each other long before that. We had worked together years before and had gotten close. We've been close ever since."

"But he never married you?"

"Neither of us wanted that. We both had our occupations. We didn't want to get bogged down in marriage and family stuff and things like that."

"Just friends then."

"Well, more than friends," said Angelique, smiling coyly. "Much more. But the arrangement worked out quite nicely for both of us."

"How did you know I was looking for him?"

"Teltrick told me. He said you were looking for Cole and while it appears that he is all but invincible they wanted to make sure you weren't planning to try anything stupid."

"I'm just looking to talk with him. I told Teltrick that. To find out why he did what he did to my mother. And why would the Brotherhood send you to check up on me?"

"They were all away on assignment and Teltrick knew that with my history with your father… Well, let's just say they knew I would look out for Cole and for you as well. If the need arose."

As for your mother," Angelique shrugged delicately, "she was an means to an end. Nothing more."

"I'm really getting tired of hearing that," Peter grumbled.

"I know you don't look on mortals the way full demons do. Not even the way I do. But in those days Cole was trying very hard to prove he was as good as any demon. It was his life. Even though he had been accepted when he joined the Brotherhood there were still demons that looked at him as less than acceptable."

"I understand that. Baldasor told me that much. And to be honest when Cole tried to explain it to me I wouldn't listen to him. I didn't care what he had to say."

"And now you do?"

"Yes. There are questions I have that only he can answer. I need to find him to ask those questions. That's why I was at his office. But he hasn't been there in days. And his secretary didn't seem to know where he was."

Angelique suddenly became very quiet. It appeared to Peter that she was thinking something over. Finally she looked up at him.

"He spends most of his time in the penthouse where he lives," she said. "Since his breakup with his witch he's been different. I tried to talk to him but he wouldn't listen to me. I've never seen him like this. Even with all of our history he wasn't interested in talking with me."

"Maybe he'll talk to me. I am his son."

"Peter, he's not the same as he was. The Halliwell witch has affected him deeply. Deeper than I've ever seen anyone affect him. You may not like what you find."

"We can't choose our family," said Peter. "Despite what he's like now it doesn't change what happened fifty years ago. I've always seen him as some amoral demon without a conscience. Someone who cared only for accomplishing his missions. I've recently learned that perspective might be more than a little myopic. Maybe if I can talk to him we can help each other."

"I suppose it can't hurt to try. As you said, you are his son. And the one thing that Cole has always understood is blood."

"Baldasor said the same thing. It's hard for me to believe that any demon would understand something like that."

"He's only half demon. Or he was. He's also half human. I think it's that human half that's causing him his pain now. A full demon wouldn't regret things from their past. It's not part of their nature. But Cole is different. His human half has a very strong affect on him. Until recently not even I realized just how much of an affect that was."

"I'm beginning to realize that," said Peter. "I'm beginning to realize quite a number of things about him I never knew."

"All I'm saying is don't be too surprised at what you find when you go see him. I don't know what to do for him. Maybe you'll have better luck than I did. As you said, you're his son."

"Thanks, Angelique. I've only known a couple of Dark Lighters. They certainly weren't anything like you. They only seemed to be concerned with business. I doubt they would have even taken the time to talk with me."

"Cole is my friend. I hate how he is now. If there's anything I can do to help him I don't have a choice. I have to try. I wish you luck."

"Thanks. I think I'm going to need it."

Angelique and Peter left the coffee shop. Peter headed for an alley where he could shimmer without being seen.


	5. Chapter 5

FIVE 

Peter shimmered into Coles' penthouse apartment. He was no stranger to a penthouse. Many of his former clients had lived in such places. They afforded all the luxury money could buy. And most demons on the mortal plane insisted on the very best.

But the scene that greeted Peter was unlike anything he could have imagined. It looked like a bomb had gone off in the apartment. A great deal of the furniture lay in shambles. Most of it had charred marks that looked very reminiscent of the impact from a fireball.

Scattered about the room were dozens of empty alcohol bottles and prescription pill bottles. Peter examined several of the pill bottles. Digoxin, Procan, Quinidine, and Lidocaine. These were life saving medications for someone with a heart condition. But in a healthy individual they were deadly. And there were dozens of such empty bottles strewn about the room.

Half-finished meals and pieces of papers were scattered about the room in haphazard fashion. To Peter it looked like someone had simply dropped the food where they had finished with it. The entire penthouse reeked and he fought down a gag at the stench. It smelled as if it hadn't been cleaned or aired out in weeks.

Carefully Peter picked his way through the rubble. He could hear movement in one of the other rooms but he couldn't determine what that movement was. Cautiously he crept up and peered through a half open door into what turned out to be a bedroom.

Cole stood in the center of the room holding a fireball. His clothes were filthy and he had more than a few days growth of beard. As Peter watched, Cole cast the fireball at a full-length mirror perched in one corner.

The fireball struck the mirror and the reflective surface caused it to rebound back toward him. It struck him full force knocking him to the floor. But instead of being vanquished Cole simply stood up, laughing to himself and brushing the residue of the weapon off his chest. Peter opened the door and stepped into the room.

"Who's your decorator?" he asked. "Post modern pig sty if I'm not mistaken."

"Peter," Cole gasped, turning to see his son standing in the doorway. "I… I never expected to see you again."

"I can imagine. Of course, I never expected to see you again either. The return of the prodigal father. Shall we kill the fatted calf and throw you a party?"

Peter's glance slid around the room. It was in as bad a shape as the rest of the penthouse.

"You're not much of a housekeeper are you?"

"What the hell do you care?"

Cole's frustration gave way to temper and found a target in his son.

"What the hell are you doing here? You made it quite clear the last time we talked you never wanted to see me again. Have you come to torment me further? Gloat over the poor pathetic state of your father?"

"I came to talk with you. I met Uncle Baldasor a while back. He told me some things that started me thinking. I thought you might be able to answer some questions I have. Questions about my mother."

Hearing his son call Baldasor uncle twisted a knife in Cole's gut. His son who couldn't bear the sight of him and never called him father. And his anger blossomed to rage.

"Baldasor?" Cole spat the name like an epitaph. "He never could be trusted. Now he goes behind my back and talks to you. What did he tell you? How I'm such a disappointment to him? How I betrayed everyone I ever knew?"

"Actually he told me about your initiation into the Brotherhood. He said everyone was very proud of the way you handled yourself."

"Sure, why not? They played me for a fool. Duped me from beginning to end. And then gave me this crap about how I had done such a good job. You said you wanted to learn about your mother. What do you want to know? How she was so easy to fool? How I said a few sweet words and gave her some flowers and she practically fell into my arms?"

Peter was fighting to control his temper in the face of his father's wild-eyed ranting.

"Don't talk like that! She wasn't like that. She told me about when you first met. You were the perfect gentleman."

"Oh yeah, sure I was," he sneered.

Peter missed the strange cunning light that crept into Cole's maniacal eyes as his addled brain formed a plan.

"I was such a perfect gentleman that we were married only a few weeks later. She couldn't wait to jump into my bed. An up and coming lawyer on the fast track to the top. She knew what that meant. She knew I'd be raking the money in hand over fist. That was your dear sweet mother. A woman who prostituted herself for what she thought would be a life of luxury."

"Damn you! Shut up! Shut your lying mouth, " Peter bit out through clenched teeth. "You said you never meant to hurt her. You talked like you even cared about her. You apologized to her at Phoebe's house for what you had done to her."

"Of course I did. You were going to kill me. I didn't have any powers to protect myself with. I would have said or done anything to stop you."

"I don't understand? Why are you like this? What could be so bad that you would turn on everyone and everything that ever meant anything to you?"

"Who said anything was bad? You always said I was nothing but a demon. No morals, no ethics, no redeeming factors. I'm just showing you how right you are. Everyone who meant anything to me? Who said anyone ever meant anything to me?"

"What about Phoebe?"

"What about her? Like you said when we first met, she was just another part of one of my elaborate schemes. Just like your mother was. I could have had any woman I wanted. Did you ever ask yourself why I chose her? Why she was so quick to marry me?"

"No," said Peter his temper barely in check. "She just told me she loved you. And you claimed to love her."

"Love?" Cole's taunting laughter had an eerily hollow quality. " Love? Is that what you think? Love had nothing to do with it. She was a means to an end for me, that's all. And her. All she wanted was a rich husband to keep her in luxury for the rest of her life. She was nothing but a common whore with delusions that she was better than she was. And she saw me as her meal ticket. Pure and simple."

Peter struck Cole as hard as he could with his fist. His partially demonic strength would have been more that sufficient with just about any human. But this was no human he had struck. Coles' head snapped to one side. He turned and looked at Peter, a smile crossing his face.

"Is that the best you can do?" he said taunting Peter. "Is that your best shot? Come on, boy. You're the son of the infamous Belthazor. Respected in the underworld and feared by witches everywhere. And you don't have anything better than that?"

Peter hit Cole again. And again Cole's head snapped to the side. But it was hardly enough to cause Cole more than a minor sore jaw. Cole reached up and pushed Peter. His son went flying back into the living room falling over a piece of furniture.

"You're pathetic," said Cole. "I would have expected more from my son. You're nothing more than a bastard who has delusions of grandeur. Just like your pitiful mother. Always reaching beyond your grasp. Trying to get what you can never have. You're a loser just like she was. A loser who died alone grieving for a man that never gave her a second thought. A man who knew her for what she was. A gold digging bitch that only cared about someone's bank account."

Rage coursed through Peter's veins like wildfire through a dry timber forest. He changed into his demonic form and formed an energy ball. Seething and trembling with hatred he glared at his father.

" Close your filthy mouth," he growled. "You have no right to talk about my mother. Not after what you did."

"And what are you going to do about it? You're more human than demon. You can't even use fireballs. You have to use those pathetic energy balls. Like I said. Just a pathetic wannabe. Like your deplorable mother. Nothing but common trash that has no right to even call yourselves human."

The harbored hatred of a lifetime exploded and Peter totally lost any control he'd ever had. He hurled the energy ball at Cole. The weapon struck his father full force sending him careening back against the wall of the bedroom. As Cole fell to the floor arms spread wide open and covered in the power of the energy ball, Peter stalked toward him forming another one.


	6. Chapter 6

SIX 

"My mother did nothing wrong but love you. That was her mistake. Loving a man who can't love anyone or anything," Peter hissed as he advanced.

"Is that what you think? That she loved me? You poor deluded fool. She sold herself for a few bucks. Just like some common streetwalker. She just tried to wrap herself in respectability."

Peter cast the second energy ball at Cole engulfing him in the magic of the weapon.

"Is that the best you have?" Cole demanded literally laughing at Peter. "You're the son of the great Belthazor. And that's the best you can muster? I was a feared demon in the underworld for nearly a hundred years. And that measly little energy ball is all you can conjure?"

Peter cast another energy ball at Cole. Then another. And another. Reason had left him. He hurled a lifetime of hatred and anguish one weapon at a time. All he saw was the man he had hated his entire life. The things Cole had said about his mother enflamed his pent up rage. Forgotten was his promise to his mother. Cole deserved to die and Peter was not stopping until he had finally killed the man that had wronged him his entire life.

He cast energy ball after energy ball at Cole. Each time Cole taunted him. Telling him how pathetic he was and how he was such a disappointment to his mother. Peter continued to attack relentlessly.

He had just formed another energy ball and was about to cast it. Cole had not risen from where he had fallen from the first attack. Peter was about to cast the weapon when he looked at Cole and the surreal quality of the scene penetrated the haze shrouding his reason. Startling him back to reality.

Lying on the floor, arms outstretched his father was smiling, waiting. Though he appeared unharmed he had made no effort to either defend himself or to attack. And as Peter stood over him, an energy ball raised to cast, the image of this twisted demonic parody of Christ on the cross etched itself into his consciousness.

Peter was suddenly exhausted. He extinguished the energy ball with a sad shake of his head. In place of the rage that had consumed him moments before, was only a gaping void. He returned to his human form and turned away.

"You're not worth it. Even if I could kill you, you just aren't worth it," he muttered as he started for the door.

"Nooooooo!"

Peter froze mid step, the piercing wail chilling him to his very soul. He'd heard a sound like that only once in his lifetime, the one and only time he had ever been hunting. It was the agonized cry of a wounded and dying beast and it had come from the man behind him.

Turning back, he looked down at Cole. He stood looking into his father's eyes and saw something in those blue depths that he had never seen in a demons' eyes before.

Pain.

Not the pain caused by any form of physical trauma. From all indications Cole remained uninjured even after all the attacks by Peter. The pain he saw was emotional pain. The type caused by injuries that couldn't be diagnosed by any doctor or seen by any type of machine. And Peter knew.

"You son of a bi… You deliberately provoked me. You wanted me to attack you. All those things you said about my mother. About me. You knew what I would do when you said them."

Cole sat up and slumped against the wall, he looked up at his son in silence and shrugged tiredly. Peter continued to stare down at him; an odd snippet of a poem he had read once suddenly came to mind.

_…the old man rocks, eyes too weary for the world, he waits to die…_

"You're smarter than I gave you credit for," Cole said quietly. "I'm not sure anyone has told you but it seems I'm invincible now. I absorbed so much power in the Wasteland I can't be vanquished. Not even by myself. When you showed up I thought maybe you could do what no one else could do. You're my son. Maybe that connection would be strong enough to end my miserable existence."

"So all those things you said? You were just trying to piss me off? So I'd attack you?"

"Why not? I've tried just about everything else. I can drink as much alcohol as I want. I can't even get drunk. And those prescription pills. Heart pills that should have sent me into cardiac arrest. I took several bottles of them. All they did was give me heartburn."

"Why? Why try to kill yourself at all?

"You're joking, right? Forget about what I did to your mother and you. Forget all the witches I've killed. All the evil I perpetrated on the mortal world. I hurt Phoebe. I hurt her so badly she actually vanquished me. Then, when I needed her help to escape the Wasteland she said she couldn't help me. She said it was over between us forever.

"Then I stumbled on a way out of the Wasteland. My soul. It protected me from being transformed like other demons. Once I had absorbed enough magic to escape I figured Phoebe would be so happy I was back we could pick up where we had left off. Before that whole business with the Source."

"But that didn't happen."

"No, it didn't. Phoebe didn't want anything to do with me. No matter what I did she wouldn't believe I had changed. That I wasn't the demon I used to be. She said I was a demon and still evil and that I'd never change. She never wants to see me again."

"Look, I know it hurts…."

"Hurts? Yeah you could say it hurts. Phoebe gave me a reason to live. I tried to be what she wanted. I really did. But I guess she was right. We just had too much going against us. She's a Charmed One. I'm half demon. Or I was. I guess it was just too much to expect that our love could overcome all that."

"How long have you been back? From the Wasteland I mean?"

"Seven or eight weeks, why?"

"And you expected her to just accept you back in such short a time? Cole, it takes time to build a relationship. I know you and she had a good relationship once before. But you can't expect her to forget everything that happened overnight. You need to give her time to adjust."

"She's never going to adjust. Let's face it. There's nothing I can do to get her trust or love back."

"I know she loves you. That hasn't changed."

"It's not enough. Not for her.

Peter shook his head in disbelief. He'd come to find answers and had instead found an invincible, love sick, suicidal demon. Unbelievable. Well, his father might have lost his way, but Peter wasn't about to be cheated out of finding his way.

"Get up," Peter said sternly, reaching down to grab Cole's arm and pull him to his feet.


	7. Chapter 7

SEVEN 

Cole stumbled to his feet, looking at Peter in confusion.

"Wha…" 

"You should be ashamed of yourself," Peter admonished his father as though he was a wayward child. "Where is all that pride, that honor and determination that Baldasor worked so hard to convince me that you had? Was it all a lie?"

Cole gaped at him, dumbfounded by his attitude.

"He would be ashamed if he saw you like this. And the Brotherhood would probably rescind your membership. The mighty Belthazor indeed."

"You don't know what you're talking about," Cole said, his irritation obvious in his tone.

It was the first sign of genuine spirit Peter had seen in his father since he had arrived. And he took it as a positive sign and forged ahead.

"You want to self destruct, that's your business I suppose. But I didn't turn myself inside out to come here to talk to you, only to be cheated out of my answers. You owe me. So put the damn self-pity away until you've told me what I want to know."

"Since when do I have anything to say that you want to hear?" Cole asked rather bitterly.

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe since you managed to die and left me to face the reality that my stubborn refusal to listen had cost me any chance of ever understanding most of my life. There are things I need to know. Things no one but you can tell me."

"Peter, nothing I can tell you is going to change the past."

"I don't expect it to. I can't stand here and tell you that it will make any difference at all between you and I in the present. I'm simply asking that you do what you once begged me to let you do, before it's too late again. I need to accept who I am. And to do that, I'm learning that I need to know who you are, who you were. Will you help me?"

Peter's steadfast and determined blue gaze met Cole's uncertain one as he waited for an answer.

"Tell me what you want to know," Cole finally said quietly.

Peter exhaled in relief. He hadn't even realized that he had been holding his breath. He flashed a wide smile in Cole's direction and headed for the dresser across the bedroom. He returned and shoved a bundle into his father's hands, his grin shifting to a sly smirk.

"First things first, old man. You are positively rank and this place has been gagging me since I walked in the door. So hit the showers. I'm going to open a door and let some fresh air in here."

Peter left the bedroom as soon as the shower started. He threw open the balcony doors and took a deep cleansing breath. Then he went in search of a broom and trash bags. There wasn't much he could do with the charred remains of the furniture so he piled them in one corner of the room as best he could. He then began using the dustpan as a mini shovel, scooping up piles of paper and food and depositing them in the trash bags. The empty booze and pill bottles went next.

By the time the water had stopped running in the bathroom, the air in the living room was almost fit to breathe again. Peter had managed to find two sound chairs and a small table. He also found the coffee and brewed a pot.

Cole entered the living room just as Peter had finished setting the coffee cups on the table. He was still unshaven, but he was clean. Peter sat and motioned his father toward the other chair. The two men stared at one another in awkward silence.

Finally Cole spoke up.

"What did you want to ask me?"

"Well," Peter began, "maybe I should start with an apology. I've always said that you had no honor or loyalty. That you weren't capable of those things. While you were gone, I learned some things from Baldasor that made me realize I was probably wrong about that. He told me about your initiation into the Brotherhood."

"That doesn't make me less demonic. In fact it only serves to show just how devoted I was to that course in my life."

" I know that, but I guess that's the point. You were wholly devoted to it. It's not the life I would choose for myself…"

"Would it surprise you to know that it's not the life I would choose for you either?" Cole asked.

"Why?" The question was out before Peter could stop himself from asking it.

"It's complicated. For the moment let's just say, that human or demon, a parent always wants better for their child than what they themselves had."

Peter couldn't help but wonder what his father was thinking about when the sad pained expression crossed his features. He didn't know about the child who may or may not have been Cole's. The child who would never see a life to be made either better or worse.

"So you know about the initiation. That means you have an idea of what I was at the time. You still haven't told me where you want me to start.

Peter's mouth was suddenly dry. He picked up his cup and drank, stalling before he began.

"The things you said earlier, about my mother…"

"I'm sorry about that," Cole interrupted quickly. " It was all lies and I am sorry I said those things to you. At that moment the only thing that interested me was making you angry enough to attack me. I was pretty sure you wouldn't have done it otherwise considering the promise you made to your mother." His face colored with shame.

"Just don't try it again or suicide by son might be successful the next time."

"Okay."

"Now," Peter leaned back in his chair, "I want you to tell me about my mother."

"I'm not sure what I can tell you that you don't all ready know. I only knew her a few months. You knew her, what, twelve years? You knew her a lot better than I did."

"I realize that. But no matter how well I knew her there are some questions that only you can answer about her."

"Like what?"

"Like why her? You said yourself you can have any woman you want. You're an attractive man. I'm sure more than one woman checks you out when you go out in public. Why did you choose her?"

"She was one of the most beautiful woman I had ever seen," said Cole thoughtfully. "I was trying to join a very prestigious law firm. But they presented a family image. I needed a wife to increase my chances of getting on with them. When I saw her on the street I figured she would be the perfect choice for me to present the wholesome family image the firm wanted."

"So she was what you said? Just a tool for one of your assignments?"

"At first, yes. Peter, I know how that sounds. But you have to understand what I was like in those days. I was a demonic mercenary. I hired out to whomever would pay my fee. She was no different from any other human I knew. It wasn't anything personal. Not then."

"I know. While I may not like it I do understand it. She was very special to me. But I can understand how she was just another person to you. Just someone you saw on the street."

"Yes, that's how it was. But like I said, that was at first. My job was to bring down this law firm in any way I could. She was a tool for me to accomplish that mission. But the longer we spent together the more I got to know her. I actually found myself starting to like her. That can be very dangerous for someone in my line of work."

"I can imagine. It destroys your objectivity. Makes you start to make mistakes. It's very similar to being a lawyer. You have to remain objective. If you become personally involved it can actually hurt your client in the long run."

"Exactly."

"So what happened? If you were beginning to like her why did you just leave her like you did? Why didn't you even make up a story to tell her?"

"It might help you understand what happened if you knew what happened those last couple of days I was there. Everything had gone smoothly up to that point. But it could easily have unraveled those last couple of days. And to be honest, your mother was not upper most on my mind at the time."

"Okay. Tell me what happened. That is why I came to see you."

Cole sipped his coffee thinking about the best way to start.


	8. Chapter 8

EIGHT

Cole Turner sat at his desk and looked at the signature on the paper. Gerald P. Dewey. It was a perfect forgery. Not even Mr. Dewey himself would be able to tell the difference. It wasn't identical to the one he had used to practice with. But then no one ever signed his or her name exactly the same way twice. There were always little differences to each signature. Making an exact copy would have tipped someone of that it wasn't the real McCoy.

And the letter itself was a stroke of genius. An innocent letter telling a client that their case was progressing nicely and they expected a positive verdict any day. But the wording was very specific. It implied that a certain judge, who was known for his rather extravagant lifestyle, had agreed to render a specific verdict in exchange for proper compensation.

Cole's job had been to bring this law firm down. To discredit them first and then make sure it close permanently. Getting a judge in on the deal was just an added benefit. In all likelihood the judge was dirty anyway. And even if he wasn't it didn't bother Cole one little bit.

It was March 12, 1958. After graduating college and then law school, Cole had finally obtained his law degree. He had taken the state bar his second year in law school just for practice. Even he had been surprised when he had actually passed. But he completed his three years of law school anyway. He didn't believe in doing things half way.

In August of 1957 he had been hired by a high-ranking demon to bring the law firm down. Disgrace the senior partners first, his employer had said. Then make sure the firm closed permanently. He had never been told why they wanted the firm closed and he hadn't asked. It didn't matter to him. He was being paid very well for this one job. And he was actually enjoying it.

But the law firm of Dewey, Cheetam, and Howe was a very prestigious firm. They were one of the top firms in the state of New York. And they presented a wholesome family image. The best way to bring them down was from the inside. And for that Cole needed to present the same image they had.

Enter one Angela Taylor. He had passed her on the street one day and had marveled at her remarkable resemblance to Angelique. She was beautiful. And she was single. She would make the perfect "wife" for an up and coming lawyer.

After a whirlwind courtship they had married. Then Cole had applied to the firm as an associate attorney. They were grateful to have him. Top in his class at law school and he had been making a name for himself in the process. When they had finally agreed to hire him, he set about with his plan.

It was ridiculously easy. During the day he handled cases for the firm. Nothing big, just enough to prove he was the type of attorney they had wanted. At night he spent going over their books and files. Small notes in the files were enough to raise suspicions. And he had found it very easy to siphon money from the firm. All of it went into a special account that the firm wasn't even aware of.

And of course the "trail" he was leaving led straight back to the senior partners. Breaches of confidentiality, evidence of money laundering, associations with known or suspected crime figures. And the embezzlement that pointed directly at the senior partners. When an anonymous tip was made to the district attorney's office they would certainly investigate. What they would find would be nothing less than scandalous.

And Angela has been the perfect wife the entire time. Keeping his house and fixing his meals each day while he slaved at the firm to earn them a very decent living. She had attended all the proper functions and presented a perfect picture for an affluent attorney.

"Mr. Turner? Your wife is on line one, sir."

"Thanks, Eileen," Cole said, covering the paper he was working on. He picked up the phone and pressed the button for line one. "Well, to what do I owe the honor of this call?"

"Can't a wife just call her husband and say hello?" asked a very cheery voice on the other end.

"I guess there's no law against it. What's up, honey?"

"Jackie called and wanted to make sure we were going to keep an eye on their house while they're out of town. I told her we were going to check on it several times a week."

"Yeah, I know," said Cole. "Gerald mentioned it to me this morning. It can't hurt to have the senior partner ask you to look after his home while he and his family are away on vacation. I think I smell a junior partnership in the works very soon."

"Really? You think he's that pleased with your work?"

"He asked me today if I had any plans for buying a house here. He said it didn't look right for a senior member of the firm to be renting an apartment. He only refers to the partners as senior members. So I'm thinking that while he and Arthur are on their vacation he might bring it up. When they get back they just might have a little announcement to make."

"That would be wonderful. A house of our own. You know I've always wanted that."

"I know. And like I said, it's best to be conservative about something like that. Make sure that things are going the way they're supposed to before we make anything permanent. Don't want to jump the gun."

"Do you want me to start checking the real estate offices? To see what might just be available out there?"

"Let's wait until they get back first. Nothing is certain. I could be misreading him. Mr. Howe is going to be the only senior partner here for the next two weeks. I'd like to make a good impression on him while Gerald and Arthur are away. After all, I'll need the vote of all three senior partners if I'm going to have any chance at a junior partnership."

"Okay, sweetie. Are you going to be working late tonight?"

"Just a little. I have one case I want to wrap up before tomorrow. But I shouldn't be long. Then, when I get home, we can talk about what house we're going to look for. And how many bedrooms we think we're going to need."

"I like the sound of that. I'll see you when you get home. I love you."

"I love you, too."

Cole thought about his wife as he hung up the phone. There was a picture of her on his desk. Ever since they had gotten married she had hinted at having a baby. He knew she would understand his reference to how many rooms their new house would need. He had always been able to put her off about having children. Saying he wanted to make sure he was firmly established before they started considering children.

He couldn't very well tell her that once this assignment was over he'd be gone. She wasn't really his wife. Just a tool he needed for his assignment. And he certainly couldn't complicate matters with a baby.

Not that the idea was distasteful to him. He had always planned to have children one day. Someone to carry on the name of the great Belthazor. And when he did decide to have children he thought the mother would be someone very similar to Angela. Pretty, smart, totally devoted to him. But he couldn't do that to her. She was human. She'd never understand about him being half demon.

Over the months he had found himself actually growing very fond of her. In the beginning she had been simply a means to an end. But in the intervening months he had developed genuine feeling for her. Something that disturbed him. He was a demon. He couldn't be encumbered by the trappings of a mortal life.

That didn't change how he felt. You couldn't choose whom you cared about and whom you didn't. But he had to stay focused on his assignment. Two more days and it would all be over. Tomorrow he would plant a few more incriminating documents in the files. Then, just before closing time, he would make a call to the district attorney's office. An anonymous call.

He knew someone would come to investigate. Probably just a cursory inspection. They wouldn't really expect to find anything. But he had all ready planted the necessary information to arouse suspicions. When the investigator checked the files he would tell them that he'd found something not quite right. That would warrant a more in depth investigation. And the more they dug the worse it would look.

And it wouldn't help matters that the two most senior partners had suddenly decided to take two week's vacation out of the country. It would appear that they were trying to slip out before what they had done came to light.

It was nearly perfect. Their reputations would be permanently stained with the improprieties and down right criminal acts the investigators would find. The money Cole had siphoned from the firms' accounts would be discovered and the firm would have to close. There would be no way to recover from what had happened.

All in all he had done quite an excellent job. A twinge of guilt ran through him. Something he wasn't used to. Poor Angela would also suffer. Oh, they wouldn't suspect her of anything. She was just the wife of one of the attorneys'. But he would be gone and she would never know why. After a while of grieving she'd move on. She'd find someone who would treat her the way she deserved.

And she wouldn't have to worry about money. Cole had more than enough. Their joint account would be more than enough for her to live on. Very soon his assignment would be finished and he knew his employer would be very pleased with the results.

Smiling to himself Cole headed for the files room several sheets of paper in hand. He was nearly finished. Another successful mission completed for the underworld.


	9. Chapter 9

NINE

The next day Cole was busy arranging the files he needed to incriminate the senior partners of the law firm. He had selected several key files that he would leave in his office to be found. Along with his letter of resignation saying that he couldn't work at the firm any longer. He had discovered some very serious irregularities in some cases. He could not, in good faith, continue to work for a firm that appeared to flagrantly flaunt the law in this way.

Most of the work had all ready been done. In truth what he was doing today was just icing on the cake. There was all ready enough evidence buried in the firms' files to bury the senior partners forever. And the money he had been able to skim from the firm was just an added bonus.

Of course most of that money would go to Angela. To compensate her for all the pain she would go through in the next few weeks. He wondered when he began to worry about a human. This was a first for him. They were just tools he used to accomplish his goals. He had never been concerned with one of them getting hurt before.

That was a further indication it was time to move on. He had spent a great deal of time and effort submerging his human half. He was a demon. Humans were beneath him. To be worried about one was not in keeping with his personae as a ruthless mercenary.

He brushed the thoughts aside. There was still work to be done. He had the files on his desk. His letter of resignation sat next to the stack of files. That letter would throw suspicion off of him. When the investigators found it they would make the logical assumption that he had planned to blow the whistle on the firm and they had just beaten him to it.

There was one last bit of "evidence" he wanted to plant. Something that was guaranteed to put the senior partners in prison for a very long time. It had been only recently that he had hit on the idea. A news report about a hit and run he had seen on the television had given him the idea.

The letters he was going to plant would intimate that the hit and run had not been an accident. That it had been a resolution to a little problem for one of the firms' clients. The entire "case" was fabricated, of course. And the innocent client would have to explain a lot of things they had no idea about. But that was just the cost of a mission for the underworld. Just collateral damage.

"Mr. Turner, your wife is on line one."

"Thanks, Eileen." Cole picked up the phone and pressed the button for line one. "Well, I was just thinking about you."

"Flatterer," said his wife on the other end. "Listen, I know this is kind of short notice but I need you not to work late tonight."

"Oh? What do you have in mind?"

"We need to talk. It's important. I just need you to come home as soon as you're finished for the day."

"Okay," said Cole, a bit confused. "What's this about?"

"I'd rather you wait until you got home tonight. It concerns what we were discussing last night."

"Okay, I'll come straight home. In fact I was planning to knock off a little early today."

"Great. I'll fix a special dinner. I'll see you when you get home. I love you, Cole."

"I love you, too, sweetheart."

Cole thought about the phone call. What they had been discussing last night? They had talked about what kind of house they would look for. She had said they should get one with five bedrooms. After all, both boys and girls deserved to have their own rooms.

Cole knew what this talk was about. She had been hinting about getting a house of their own for weeks. She had probably been looking for one while he was at work. And she had obviously found the one she wanted. That would explain why she wouldn't talk about it over the phone. She wanted to have his undivided attention when she tried to persuade him she had found the perfect home for them.

Cole picked up the papers he needed to plant and was about to head for the files room when he heard some kind of commotion in the outer office. He couldn't tell what the commotion was. He walked over and cracked the door to his office.

In the outer office he saw Larry Howe, the only senior partner in the office at the moment, talking to another man. Howe was looking over some papers. Cole recognized the other man. His name was Payne Brown. He was an Assistant District Attorney and the firm dealt with him practically on a daily basis.

"As you can see, Larry, the warrant is perfectly in order," Brown was saying. "The State Police are here to take custody of all your files. Everyone is to stop whatever they're working on immediately."

As Cole watched he saw several uniformed officers from the New York State Police enter and begin to collect files from the various desks. He called Eileen into his office.

"What's going on?" He asked her.

"I'm not sure. Mr. Brown just showed up without warning. He's got a warrant to confiscate all the files in the office."

"Do you have any idea what this is all about?"

"I think it has something to do with the upcoming audit. Apparently in the pre-audit the accountants found some very serious discrepancies. Mr. Brown said something about nearly two million dollars missing that couldn't be accounted for. He said they're going to go over all the books and the files until they find out what's going on."

"Thanks," said Cole ushering her out of the office and closing the door behind her.

_Damn._ He hadn't counted on that. The audit itself wasn't for another two months. By that time he had planned to be long gone. Now the ADA had shown up early. He couldn't afford to be caught here. There would months of investigations and questions. And he would be under scrutiny the entire time.

His options were limited. If he stayed he would be wrapped up for who knows how long. He wouldn't be able to just slip away. And the letter of resignation would look suspicious with him around.

On the other hand if he couldn't be found it would save him some trouble. The investigators wouldn't be able to question him. And since there was nothing to link him directly to the missing money or the other discrepancies they wouldn't be able to charge him with anything. His best bet would be to disappear now before anyone was the wiser.

Picking up the bankbook to his and Angela's joint account, Cole quietly shimmered out of the office for the last time.

Cole looked around the apartment one last time. It was the longest he had ever lived on the mortal plane in one place. He found it comfortable. Apparently Angela was out at the moment. Cole slipped the bankbook back into its normal spot. Angela rarely looked at it. Like most women she relied on her husband to handle the financial matters for the family.

Cole toyed with the idea of leaving her a note. Trying to explain why he had to leave. But he couldn't think of anything that sounded convincing. Angela was under the impression that he cared about her a great deal. That was true to a degree. But she had no indication there was anything seriously wrong with the marriage.

No, the best course of action was just to disappear. She would eventually find the bankbook and know he had taken care of her. She would never know why he had left. But that was okay. She would hurt for a while. That was to be expected. But she would get over that soon enough. And another man would come along one day. Someone fully human that she could make a life with.

Suddenly Cole heard the front door to the apartment open. He heard Angela enter the apartment. She was singing her favorite song.

_"Chances are 'cause I wear a silly grin _

_The moment you come into view _

_Chances are you think that I'm in love with you_ "

That meant she was in high spirits. She only sang when she felt on top of the world.

Good. At least she'd be happy for a while. Before she discovered that he had disappeared without a trace. With the money he had left her she might even buy the house she was going to tell him about that night.

"Good-bye," he whispered quietly to the empty room. Then, feeling a twinge of guilt that he found difficult to suppress, Cole shimmered out of the apartment and Angela's life forever. He never saw the doctors' slip she carefully laid on the dining room table.


	10. Chapter 10

TEN 

Peter contemplated his father in silence. He'd watched the play of emotions on Cole's face as he had related the story. There was no doubt in his mind that he'd spoken the truth. Now he found himself grappling to dislodge the lump that had formed in his throat so that he might speak.

"So, something more than a tool after all?"

"Yes," the admission slipped from Cole quietly, almost mournfully.

"But you didn't love her?"

"No." Cole ran his hand tiredly through his hair. "But you need to understand, that wasn't her fault. I couldn't love her; I didn't know I was even capable of the emotion. Peter, I had spent my entire life denying that the part of me that was human even existed. Even when I used that part of myself to reach a goal. I would convince myself that it was just something I knew how to do, but that it wasn't who I was. It's rather like trying to change your race by wishing it so. Or your ancestry by pretending it doesn't exist."

"That's pretty naïve," Peter said with a tiny smile.

"Well, I was only a few years older than you are now. So I guess I was still pretty naïve at the time."

Peter sputtered indignantly.

"I'm not a child you know and I sure wish everyone would stop treating me like one."

"Okay, point taken, none of us like to be reminded that we're young, even when we are." Cole grinned at him and stood to stretch his legs.

"Do you think you could have loved her? If things had been different I mean."

"There's no way for me to answer that. It was another half a lifetime before I even started to understand what that word means. And," Cole cast a rueful glance around the room, " We can see how well that has turned out. Maybe that's something that it's best we don't know."

It had grown quite dark, the only light in the room coming from the moon and the distant twinkle of city lights that peeked through the open balcony doors. Peter struggled for a way to fill the sudden silence that had descended on the room. In truth, he was more terrified of the next question he needed to ask than he had ever been of anything in his life.

"Obviously, it wasn't a house that Mom wanted to talk to you about."

"Obviously."

"Would it have mattered if you had known about me?" Peter let the question fall into the darkness.

Cole stopped his pacing and stared intently at his son.

"Yes," he said sadly. "Then you would have become the greatest sin of my life."

He couldn't believe his ears. It sounded as though he was glad he hadn't known he had a son. The lifetime of anger that had slowly been dying in Peter bloomed anew.

"Bastard. You didn't have to make it quite so clear what a mistake I was."

"Peter, hear me out. You said you came to listen and you asked the question."

"So talk already," he choked on the bile that had risen in his throat.

"If I had known about you, I would have moved heaven and hell itself to have you with me. Nothing would have stopped me. And no one. As you said before, I was nothing if not proud and I'd have been doubly so to have a son. You would have been mine to raise, to mold in my image. To carry on the lineage of the great Belthazor."

Cole paused and drew a shaky breath before he continued.

"You think life with the humans was difficult because you were different? Can you begin to imagine what your life would have been like in the world I lived in? If I were a pariah as a half demon, what would you have been at only a quarter? And I'd have been there every step of the way. Pushing you to excel, demanding only the best from you. Molding you into the best demon you could be, because I would have believed it was the right thing to do. After all, the son of Belthazor was no ordinary demon. I would have treated you the way other demons treated me. Demanding you be twice as good just to prove you were my son."

Peter couldn't muster a response to the picture his father painted and simply waited for him to continue.

"And what about your mother? Let's say she could try and accept what I was. She was a good woman. How well do you think she would have fared as the mate of a demonic mercenary? How long do you think it would have been before she saw what I was doing to you and tried to take you away? I wouldn't have allowed it. You think you hate me now? How would you have felt after you watched me kill her for trying to keep me from what was mine?"

"You'd be dead already."

Cole had begun pacing furiously again as he'd launched his questions at Peter. Snatching up one of the few undamaged articles in the room, the photo of him and Phoebe. He now returned to the chair and slumped into it tiredly.

"Yes, I'd be dead. I'd have taught you how to kill very well. I'd be gone. Your mother would be gone. And one day, you'd have learned as I did, that you were more than you had been taught you were. You would be alone with a lifetime of regrets and no idea how to live with this other legacy. I am glad that I didn't know about you. Glad because, whether you believe it or not, I love you. You've grown into a man that any father would be proud to call son. And you did it because I wasn't there to try and twist you into something else. I can live with you hating me."

"Someone once said it's the things we don't do that we regret. That's not always the case. I don't regret not being there for you. Oh, not because I wouldn't have wanted to be. But because it allowed you to become who you are. If I had been there you would have been the demon I wanted you to be. And believe me you would have resented me for it your entire life. Considering that, I can live with you hating me for what I did to your mother. It's a small price to pay for letting you choose your own destiny and not have one forced on you like I did."

Cole lapsed into an exhausted silence, staring morosely at the picture in his hands. Peter's thoughts were jumbled; all the feelings he had been so sure of were blown into disarray in a storm of comprehension. He might not know exactly what he did feel, but he knew what he didn't feel. He didn't hate his father. He couldn't. In every way that mattered he was his father. Peter fought to find some way to put the turmoil into words. His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of clock chimes; he looked at his watch and cursed.

"Look we have a problem," he said quickly. " I didn't know it was so late and I have to be at the airport at five a.m. Got to go out of town on some client business tomorrow. But we aren't done here."

Peter stared at the photo and his father's face quietly for a moment.

" I don't hate you," he said softly. "And I don't know what happened between the two of you. But whatever it is, I can't help but think it will be all right. She loves you. And I believe you love her."

"Doesn't matter. It can't be fixed."

"Yes it can! But not if you give up. You're not a quitter and you'll find a way to win her back. You just need to remember who you are and keep trying. I'm sure you and Phoebe can work it out. So, no more stunts like the one I walked into okay. I want you to promise me that."

Cole studied Peter carefully. He'd said he didn't hate him. He wanted him to promise not to try and hurt himself. For the first time in a while Cole let the seed of hope take root. Maybe there was a way.

"Okay," he agreed finally. "No more suicide by anyone. Wasn't working out too well anyway."

Peter released a sigh of relief.

"Good," he said. "We'll talk again when I get back okay? It's two weeks at the most, depending on whether they have everyone ready for the depositions I need to get. So, I'll see you then, but I really have to go now."

And with that Peter shimmered out of the penthouse for home.


	11. Chapter 11

ELEVEN

Cole remained seated in the shadows for quite some time after Peter's departure. His fingers idly caressed the photo as he sought to bring order to his scattered thoughts. It would appear that he might just have a son after all.

He wasn't delusional enough to believe that everything was fine. It would take more than a conversation to make that so. But Peter had listened and that was a start. Perhaps, in time, they might find their way to some kind of a relationship. That possibility cheered Cole more than even his miraculous return from the dead had. It gave him hope.

His heart considerably lighter, he shut the balcony doors. The air was better than it had been, but Peter was right, this place was disgusting. Oh well, a call to the cleaning service tomorrow would fix that. That thought caused Cole to pause; he couldn't remember when he last thought about tomorrow with the certainty that there would be one. And if there was actually going to be a tomorrow, then he figured he had better get some sleep.

As he rummaged through his drawer in search of pajama bottoms his hand encountered a softer garment. He lifted it before his mind could register what his hand had found. He toyed with the black silk negligee. His heart wrenched with the fresh reminder of the despair he'd briefly buried.

"Phoebe," her name fell with lament into the silent room.

Releasing the garment, he watched it float back toward the drawer. Turning to trudge toward the bed, he allowed the regret and loss to wash through him. He'd hurt her badly. She said they were through. That their love wasn't enough. He couldn't let go of that love and he didn't want her to either. There just had to be a way to win her back.

Cole plopped down on his bed, fighting off the sense of helplessness that came with thoughts of Phoebe these days. He tried to direct his wayward mind back to his talk with Peter. Back to where hope lay. Hope… _you just need to remember who you are_

Cole's eyed snapped open as Peter's words drifted through his mind. Of course. It really was so simple. He couldn't believe he had lost sight of it. He'd told Phoebe he would never give up and yet he'd almost done just that. And that wasn't who he was.

He'd fought tougher battles than this before. If he could convince the underworld to accept him as a demon, surely he could convince Phoebe that their love was meant to be. She just needed to be reminded of how happy they could be together. He could do that. And he would do it too.

Their love had been strong enough for him to overcome death itself. And he would just have to show her that it was strong enough to overcome anything else as well. Peter was right, he wasn't a quitter and he wouldn't start with something this important.

Cole closed his eyes with a smile. His new resolve brought him a sense of peace. For the first time in too many nights Cole was able to relax and let sleep take him.

Peter thought about his conversation with Cole as he packed for his trip. He had gotten many of the answers he had gone to his father for. But strangely it had not resolved his issues for him. If anything he had even more questions now.

He could understand why Cole was glad he hadn't known about Peter. His father was right. Parents did want better for their children. Peter found it odd that it would also apply to demons. Being evil, demons couldn't love. But that didn't necessarily preclude that they cared for their young. That was a misconception he had labored under his entire life.

Animals couldn't love either. Oh, people attributed that emotion to animals. But in truth, love was an emotion exclusive to humans. Animals cared about their young. It was instinctive in them. And, he decided, it was probably the same with demons.

Cole had said he loved Peter. He knew his father had been telling the truth. There was no reason for Cole to lie to him. It wouldn't have gained anything for Cole to lie. But the fact that he could say he loved Peter showed that he wasn't the heartless demon Peter had always believed him to be.

Peter had told Cole he didn't hate him any more. That wasn't entirely true. The truth was he didn't know how he felt. He still hated what Cole had done. Anyone would. But for Cole himself his emotions were in flux.

On the one hand Cole was a demon. And one of the very best. He had spent nearly his entire life proving he was a better demon than most full demons. And he had proven that very effectively. Peter hated all demons.

On the other hand, Cole was also half human. And from what he had seen in his father's apartment he was as much human as anyone. Capable of good as well as evil. Being good or evil was a matter of choice for most creatures. While many creatures were prone to one or the other, each had the ability to choose which they would be.

Not to mention this was his father. Despite what he may or may not have done, there was some small part of Peter that did love his father. Just as any child loved their parents, even when they discovered some of the "bad" things their parents had done. It was human nature to love one's parents.

There was also the man Peter had seen when he first entered the apartment. A pathetic wretch feeling sorry for himself. A man devoid of respect for anyone or anything. A man bereft of any hope for the future. It was not in keeping with the reputation of a fiercely proud demon, or man, that was willing to do anything to prove they were as good as their contemporaries.

Peter had a lot to sort out. He was glad he had the depositions to take in Los Angeles. It would give him time to think through his feelings about Cole.

And there was always Cherise Young. She and Peter had dated for a while until things had started getting serious. While he was in Los Angeles Peter decided he'd pay her a visit. After what he had learned from Cole he was also thinking about her.

He had never thought he could have a serious relationship with a woman. He couldn't risk he'd be a father like Cole. Now, he was beginning to realize that Cole was not the father, or the man, he had always believed him to be. And Cherise was a very good listener.

Peter finished packing and headed for his car. He would have two weeks to decide how he actually felt before he spoke to Cole again. He had once told Cole they would never be father and son like other families. But maybe, just maybe, they could finally stop being strangers.

The End

If you've enjoyed this story, you can find more "Charmed" stories at my website,  You can also post your own "Charmed" stories if you like to write fan fiction.


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